


How to Begin

by serdasenpai



Series: how to begin [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, I STAN THESE TWO CUTIES, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, We dont need a reason to write WHOLESOME CONTENT, basically this is all mando and baby quality time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serdasenpai/pseuds/serdasenpai
Summary: so basically these are all writing prompts based on this post I found on tumblr created by the one and only margarethx! I plan to do all 50- that's a big maybe- and it will definitely take some time but I'm gonna enjoy writing these even if I have to sacrifice sleep goshdarnit!
Series: how to begin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906015
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119





	How to Begin

If there was ever a time to get things done it was now.

It was afterward, after the world fell away and they left the dusty surface of Nevarro, that Dyn decided his ship needed a thorough cleaning. Afterall, The Child was with him and The Child was far too curious for his own good and put more than what was necessary in his little mouth. The last thing Dyn needed was for The Child, his foundling, to end up choking on stray pieces of the ship. Sure, he had straightened it up after his encounter with the Jawas but as he skimmed a gloveless hand over the interior walls and along the main control panel, his fingers coming away grimy with God-knows-what, he realized the Razor Crest required much more than simple organization.

At his left, below him, waddled The Child, one three-fingered hand clutching the metal Mythosaur skull necklace and babbling happily.

"Absolutely," Dyn said, hooking his thumbs into the loops of his pants and looking down at The Child. "I'm glad you agree, but-" here, he scooped up The Child and deposited him in his bassinet in the cockpit, "-you have to stay here while I clean up. Stay here." For emphasis, Dyn arranged the blanket around The Child, tucking in the edges. The Child grinned- actually grinned- lips curled back to reveal a tiny set of cusped teeth, huge almond-shaped eyes gazing lovingly up at Dyn.

Dyn removed the metal ball from the lever on the control panel and handed it to The Child. "Just stay here and- and don't move. I won't be long."

The Child brought the ball to his mouth and gnawed, eyes never leaving Dyn. Dyn left the cockpit, slipping out of the heaviest part of his armor and setting it aside. His hands went to his helmet and he almost removed it, but something stirred inside him- The Child was a living thing, not like IG-11, and he couldn't remove it, not just yet- so he let his hands drop, rolling his shoulders to loosen some of the tension there. A sigh. "Right. Well, this won't get done by itself." He turned to rummage through a mess of junk for the sweeper he saw earlier and in his peripheral vision he saw The Child dangle loosely from the bassinet before dropping without a sound to the floor.

Dyn sighed. The Child waddled over, his little hand reaching out to touch a pile of dirty rags.

"You want to help me? Is that it?"

The Child picked one up, slowly bringing it to his mouth.

"No," Dyn warned, stepping forward just as The Child stuck the corner in his mouth. "No, stop it." Dyn grabbed the rag in one hand and The Child in the other. Dyn sighed again, plopping The Child back in the bassinet, tucking in the edges, retrieving the metal ball. "Now, I mean it. Stay. Put."

Dyn retrieved the sweeper and began pushing all the dust and dirt from the corners into little piles. Loose screws and clumps of dried mud hid under tables and chairs as well as what looked like bits of a stale ration bar. His beskar polishing kit was somehow laying in the open, on the floor, so he put it away, dusting off a layer of grime from the bottom.

A wet gurgle came from behind him and he turned to see The Child out of the bassinet, elongated ears swiveling with excitement.

"Again?" Dyn knew he should have learned his lesson on Sorgon, when The Child wouldn't listen to him even then, but figured repetition might teach him something. Now, it was just frustrating. He abandoned the sweeper and scooped up The Child. "Alright then, I guess you'll clean with me."

The Child babbled again, leaning heavily into the crook of Dyn's arm, one ear sticking up as he pressed against Dyn's side. He smiled a little to himself, the image of this tragedy-borne mandalorian cleaning his ship like a house maid and swaddling a Child burned deep in his mind. He knew the sight may have looked comical and he was glad no one else was aboard the ship to witness. If it was Cara, she'd tease him mercilessly; she'd never let him live that one down.

Soon, he learned how to maneuver The Child and clean his ship at the same time. And then, at the eleventh hour when the final piece of junk was tossed and the last remnants of dirt were swept away, Dyn's left arm burned with exertion. Sure, The Child weighed no more than a blaster or two but even the tiniest things grow heavier the longer you carry them.

Dyn didn't let The Child go, however, choosing to simply switch him from one arm to another. "Improvise. Adapt. See? Not so bad." He shrugged, smiling a little to himself as The Child reached up and touched the visor of his helmet, leaving behind a three-fingered hand print on the glass. He caught the stretch in his mouth and almost stopped until he realized there was no one to see.

"Ah, what the heck…"

The hand print faded but his smile did not.


End file.
